


I'm The Colorless Sunrise

by gothpandaotaku



Series: Short and Sweet [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Being an Asshole, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Infidelity, Jealous Sam Winchester, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Season/Series 04, angsty angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothpandaotaku/pseuds/gothpandaotaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They settled into a routine of sorts. Dean picked up hots chicks in bars most nights, fucked his brother when he felt like it on others, and they never, ever talked about it. </p>
<p>Sam felt like he was drowning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm The Colorless Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> This is so, so old, I just kept forgetting to post it on here. I still can't believe I wrote this. Heed the warnings. It may be short, but there's a LOT of angst packed in here. NOT a happy fic guys.

The first time it happened, Sam was confused. 

Just a few weeks ago, they’d _finally_ done it. After all these years of dancing around each other, hoping, praying, and wondering  _what if_ , they’d finally took that last step and kissed for the first time in the Impala, exhausted and filthy and high on adrenaline in the aftermath of a successful hunt. They had sex for the first time in the backseat not fifteen minutes later. 

It was  _perfect_. 

It was everything Sam had ever imagined, and more. It wasn’t exactly sweet and gentle (like he used to imagine it would be when he was a love-sick fifteen year-old desperately pining for his older brother, writing bad poetry in battered notebooks), but it wasn’t a hard fuck either; it was a perfect blend of the two, something uniquely them. The entire time Dean whispered in his ear as he thrust into him, whispering “ _fuck Sammy, so tight,”_ and “ _you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, little brother.”_  

Dean had definitely seemed to enjoy it, so when Dean left the bar with a perky blonde in a short shirt, Sam had no idea what it meant. Had Dean forgotten they’d basically  _confessed their fucking love for each other_ just a short time ago? 

He’d hoped Dean wouldn’t bring her back to their motel, but when he came back late that night the scent of sex was heavy in the air. He ignored Dean the rest of the night and all of the next day. 

But a few days later Dean crawled into his bed in the middle of the night, whispering how “ _She wasn’t you Sammy,” “You’re the only one for me, you know that.”_  He let Dean fuck him again and the next day he was practically whistling. It must have been a misunderstanding or something and wouldn’t happen again, right? 

It did, not even a week later. Some skank in a tight shirt barely covering her ample (fake) breasts. Judging by the stench in the Impala the next day they hadn’t even made it to the motel. Sam rolled the windows down and tried not to throw up. 

He tried to talk to Dean about it, ask him  _why? Why do you want them when you can have me? All of me?_

“So I get lucky a lot, Sam. Doesn’t change anything, right?” Dean looked at Sam with an expression urging him not to take to this conversation any further. That if he did, he wouldn’t like what he heard. 

Sam shut his mouth.

He thought about saying no the next time Dean came crawling into his bed like a stray cat. He  _wanted_ to say no; after all, why should Sam be the only one left out in the cold in this... relationship, or whatever the fuck it was they had? 

Turns out he’s so pathetic, so fucking  _desperate_ that he’ll take any piece of his brother he can get. Even if it’s only on nights Dean can’t find something better, 

They settled into a routine of sorts. Dean picked up hots chicks in bars most nights, fucked his brother when he felt like it on others, and they never, ever talked about it. 

Sam felt like he was drowning. 

And then he realized something. In the middle of sucking down  _demon blood_  like it was candy, feeling the rush of fire spread through his veins, he finally  _understood_. Why Dean could never bring himself to love him.

_He wasn’t fucking worthy of it._

Dean didn’t feel the same about him because why would he? He was a fucking demon blood junkie! A hole to fuck when it was convenient! That’s all he was good for! He should feel  _fucking lucky_ that Dean gave him that much!

It was so obvious Sam felt so completely and utterly  _stupid_ for not realizing it sooner. Anyone with a brain could see it. The skanks Dean fucked could see it for Christ’s sake. 

Poison dripping down his chin, Sam laughed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Scream at me, yell at me, cry at me!


End file.
